


He's Dr. Gearloose, Whaddya Gonna Do?

by BrandyVorta (GhostySoldier)



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Based on Milo Murphy's Law's "The Island Of Lost Dakotas", Fenton cares a lot about Gyro, Gyro dies a lot, M/M, Paradox clones, Takes place from before "Beware the BUDDY System" to right after "The 87 Cent Solution", Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostySoldier/pseuds/BrandyVorta
Summary: To say that Gyro Gearloose was prone to accidents would be quite an understatement. His inventions turned evil almost on the daily, tearing up the lab and threatening bodily harm on a regular basis. Between the inventions going haywire and his many coffee-fueled all-nighters, it was some kind of miracle that he had survived this long. Sooner or later, however, Gyro’s luck was bound to run out. For one Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, that day came shortly after he began interning at McDuck Enterprises.From there, Fenton makes it his personal mission to keep Gyro alive, no matter the cost to himself. Which turns out to be easier said than done.Inspired by Milo Murphy's Law, and its "Island of Lost Dakotas" arc.





	He's Dr. Gearloose, Whaddya Gonna Do?

To say that Gyro Gearloose was prone to accidents would be quite an understatement. His inventions turned evil almost on the daily, tearing up the lab and threatening bodily harm on a regular basis. Between the inventions going haywire and his many coffee-fueled all-nighters, it was some kind of miracle that he had survived this long. Sooner or later, however, Gyro’s luck was bound to run out. For one Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, that day came shortly after he began interning at McDuck Enterprises. Gyro had had the bright idea to tinker around with the concept of time travel yet again, and decided to use Fenton as a guinea pig for the testing stage.

“Give me your hand.” The chicken spoke sharply, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. He held a strange-looking wristwatch in his hand, already staring impatiently at the intern. Fenton, being new to the job and naive as he was, was more than happy to comply, extending his arm towards Gyro with a smile. 

“As you wish, Dr. Gearloose!”

Gyro barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the intern’s eagerness, not bothering to be gentle as he strapped his latest invention securely around Fenton’s wrist. Fenton winced once or twice, but didn’t voice any complaints. The last thing he wanted was to trigger Gyro’s temper when he was already in a tizzy.

Once the device was securely on, Fenton blinked at it, before looking at Gyro expectantly for further instructions. The chicken didn’t get the memo at first, before he sighed and crossed his arms. “Right. This device is what I call the Temporal Turnback Watch. It allows you to go back in time as far as 24 hours, which would allow you to correct any mistakes you made during the day.”

“So, it’s a... cosmic do-over switch?” Fenton dared to inquire, examining the watch curiously.

“Were you even listening? It’s the Temporal Turnback Watch!” Gyro snapped, placing special emphasis on the consonants. “I swear, I don’t even know why I hired you.” He muttered under his breath, hands moving to his hips in annoyance.

“No matter! It’s not your job to understand my inventions, it’s your job to help test them. So... why don’t you turn the knob five minutes back?”

Fenton nodded and complied, surprised by how smoothly the dial on the watch turned. Not even a click once he set it to the proper time! Once that was done, he looked at Gyro to await further instruction. The chicken frowned, squinting at Fenton, then at the watch for a few seconds. “Odd. It should have activated once you set it. Are you certain you set it properly? Did you press down after you turned it? Did you set it to exactly five minutes?”

“I did exactly what you told me to, Dr. Gearloose!”

“Hmm...” Gyro’s frown deepened and he stroked his chin in thought, trying to figure out where he could have gone wrong. He circled Fenton, continuing to ‘hmm’ and ‘huh’, as the duck rocked nervously on his heels.

This continued for at least a minute before Fenton gathered his nerves and posited, “Perhaps the battery wasn’t charged?”

Gyro straightened up and he scoffed. “Buh buh buh buh,  _ no. _ I always ensure my inventions are properly charged and ready to go before any test! In fact, the watch was plugged in right here just a minute ago-- wait, what happened to the cord?!”

With an enraged screech, Gyro lifted a tattered charging cable from the floor, and swung his head around in a furious search for the culprit. He soon locked his eyes on Lil’ Bulb, who was playing with a pair of scissors dangerously close to one of the lab’s electrical sockets. Gyro let out a noise that count only be described as a squawk of parental fear, bolting toward the tiny robot.

“No, no, no, no, no, put those down, Lil’ Bulb! If you cut that wire you could blow your circuits and black out the whole lab! Lil’ Bulb-- STOP!”

He reached for the tiny robot just as the scissors closed on the wire, and the lab was suddenly alight with sparks. Gyro screamed in pain, the crackling of electricity sounding harsh against the walls, until it all went silent and the lab went dark. Fenton’s eyes widened, and he let out a gasp, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight.

“Dr. Gearloose! Are you alright!?” He called out, frantically searching through the darkness. No response. Fenton felt his heart begin to race, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. If Gyro wasn’t already beginning to complain about the inconvenience of his injuries, then something was seriously wrong.

He scrambled across the lab, stumbling here and there as he tripped on papers and loose parts left around from Gyro’s latest inventing flurry. Finally, he reached the electrical socket, and shone his flashlight on the floor. Immediately, he felt his grip slacken and the phone clattered to the floor, Fenton’s hands flying to his mouth. He took a few steps back, and a broken whisper escaped him. “Oh, no...”

The Money Bin’s backup generator kicked in at that moment, illuminating the lab once more. Gyro Gearloose lay on the floor, feathers singed, his eyes wide open and staring at nothing. Beside him, Lil Bulb was completely burnt out, the coils of its bulb blackened to a crisp. Fenton’s heart caught in his throat, and he stood frozen in place, even as his mind screamed at him to perform CPR. It wouldn’t do any good. Gyro was already dead, and there was nothing he could do to save him.

Or was there?

Fenton’s gaze traveled to the watch still strapped to his wrist, and determination replaced the horror in his eyes. Dr. Gearloose was not going to die today. Not if he had anything to say about it. With trembling fingers, he set the dial five minutes back, and pressed down on the face of the watch. A flash consumed his vision, and once the light faded, he found himself back in the lab, right where he started.

But not when he started.

“Give me your hand.” The chicken spoke sharply, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. Fenton gasped at the familiar voice, and quickly ducked out of sight before either Gyro or his past self could catch sight of him. Unfortunately for him, he’d forgotten about the lab’s third occupant. Lil Bulb looked at him, its tiny hands still gripping the scissors that had caused this whole problem in the first place, and let out a startled sparking sound.

Fenton winced and he waved his hands frantically in a shushing motion in an attempt to calm the little robot. Lil Bulb didn’t seem too keen on calming down, and went running across the floor of the lab, catching Gyro’s attention.

“Lil’ Bulb!” The scientist snapped, his attention torn from past Fenton and the Temporal Turnback Watch. “Put down those scissors this  _ instant! _ What have I told you about running with sharp objects?”

Footsteps sounded, and Fenton dared to peek out of his hiding place to watch Gyro chase after Lil’ Bulb, grabbing furiously for the robot. Taking the chance, he darted over to his past self, tapping him on the shoulder.

Past Fenton turned, likely expecting Manny, and let out a yelp of surprise when he laid eyes on himself. Fenton pressed a finger to his bill, shushing him before he could alert Gyro to his presence. “Quiet. Dr. Gearloose can’t know I’m here.”

Taking the hint, his past self lowered his voice, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why not? I thought he wanted to test the watch-- and you being here must mean that it works!”

“Well, yes, but that’s not why I’m here. You see, Dr. Gearloose--”

“Gotcha! Give me those scissors. You are going in time out, Lil’ Bulb!” Gyro’s voice sounded and both Fentons looked toward the source in alarm.

Fenton shook his head, and quickly whispered to his past self, “Meet me in the parking garage as soon as you can. And whatever you do, don’t let Lil’ Bulb cut any more wires!”

* * *

Past Fenton’s thoughts had been racing too much since his future self’s appearance to focus once Gyro finally got Lil’ Bulb to stay in time out. He kept missing what Gyro was saying, eyes often wandering to where the tiny robot sulked on Gyro’s desk. The scientist soon grew frustrated with repeating directions, so he just decided to test the watch another time.

With Gyro fully immersed in tinkering further with the watch, and Lil Bulb seemingly safely contained, Fenton excused himself for a lunch break and slipped away to the parking garage.

There, his future self was waiting, rocking on his heels. Fingers tapped anxiously against the watch, still securely strapped around his wrist. Fenton cleared his throat, making his presence known to his duplicate, who startled before rushing over to him.

“Is Dr. Gearloose alright? How did it go? You didn’t tell him about me, right?”

“Calm down, er... me! Dr. Gearloose is fine, if a bit grumpier than usual. I was so preoccupied with keeping an eye on Lil’ Bulb I couldn’t focus on testing the watch. So he called off the test for today.” The intern grimaced, twiddling his thumbs. He deeply hoped it wouldn’t reflect too poorly on his performance, not that Gyro had a high opinion of him to begin with.

Future Fenton breathed a sigh of relief, running his fingers through his crest of hair. “At least he’s still alive.”

“Wh-- what was that all about anyway? What do you mean by that? Did Dr. Gearloose actually die?! What happened in your future?!” Fenton urged, brows creased in growing concern for his employer.

“Slow down and I can explain. In my future, Dr. Gearloose found out Lil’ Bulb was cutting cables, and when he tried to stop it, both of them got electrocuted. It... It wasn’t pretty.” Future Fenton glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then I remembered I still had the watch, so I... went back in time to save him. And I think it worked.”

Fenton stared, eyes wide, as he listened to his story. There were so many questions running through his head, but the one that slipped out was-- “So, if you-- I-- we saved Dr. Gearloose, then that means your timeline doesn’t exist anymore. Doesn’t that mean you should have disappeared?”

“That... is a very good question!” Future Fenton laughed nervously. He wasn’t sure which would be worse-- ceasing to exist or having to figure out what to do with two of himself. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it seemed that he would have to deal with the latter.

“Now what are we going to do?”

* * *

In the end, the two Fentons decided to alternate who would go to work and who would hide out at home. It was risky, yes, and there were a few close calls with M’ma Cabrera, but overall, it seemed to be working out fairly well. The Fenton who went to work would take the Temporal Turnback Watch with him, just in case, and the Fenton who stayed home would hide in the closet until M’ma Cabrera went on duty in the city. And at the end of the day, the Fenton who went to work would catch the other up to speed on the events of the day, so there wouldn’t be any conspicuous “amnesia” the next day. They had to admit, they’d figured out a pretty good system.

At least, until circumstances threw a third Fenton into the mix.

This time, Gyro had gotten himself crushed by an automatically sorting bookshelf he’d been tinkering with, much to Fenton’s chagrin. Two Fentons could be dealt with. Three Fentons, on the other hand, made things difficult. It had been hard enough keeping the first duplicate a secret from his M’ma, Fenton knew there was no way he’d be able to keep  _ two _ doppelgangers under wraps.

They needed to think of something else.

* * *

The answer came like a shining beacon of hope from the sky. Or rather, like a suit of armor flying at him at top speeds. The Gizmoduck suit. The suit, among its many other capabilities, was able to fly, and with that, that meant finding a place for his duplicates to stay became that much easier. The only problem was sneaking the suit away from Gyro long enough to make that search. After the incident with Beaks and B.U.D.D.Y., Gyro was keeping a more watchful eye on Fenton and on his precious Project Blatherskite.

Fortunately, Fenton was able to convince him to allow him to take the suit home for ‘practice’. It hadn’t been easy, and had even required a bit of Scrooge’s intervention, but Gyro relented and allowed Fenton to keep the suit in a duffel bag for transport.

It had taken a couple trips, but Fenton finally located a potential hideout for his paradox doubles. An island, not too far from the coast of Duckburg, but far enough that nobody could stumble upon them on accident. It was perfect. Temperate, habitable, and able to hold quite a large population if need be. Fenton hoped that it wouldn’t come to that point, but it was still a solid base to set up the first camp.

The three Fentons found a family-size tent put up for cheap online, and as soon as it arrived, they gathered their supplies and made their way to the island. There had been quite the conversation on who would stay in Duckburg and be the “main” Fenton, but it was agreed that the last Fenton that time traveled would be the one to stay. And if Gyro happened to die again, the past Fenton would be the one sent to the island afterwards.

That is,  _ if _ Gyro died again. Fenton kept his fingers crossed that it wouldn’t come to that.

* * *

Of course it couldn’t be that simple. 

After the incident with Mark Beaks and Waddleduck, Gyro died dozens more times. Almost always as a result of one of his experiments going awry, but sometimes it was just plain bad luck. Launchpad driving a little too out of control, a cheap Glomgold construction site collapsing during a field test, those sorts of things. And each time, an extra Fenton was left behind, having traded places with his future self and being sent to the Marina to catch a boat heading out to sea.

After death number fifty, a particularly messy affair, Fenton realized with a jolt that it wasn’t making him sick to his stomach anymore. Gyro’s repeated deaths were becoming less of a shock and more of an inconvenience, an ‘oh great, here we go again’. That terrified Fenton more than the thought of losing Gyro forever: The thought that one day, he would be so numb to it, that he wouldn’t even care about saving Gyro anymore. That he would grow to resent Gyro for it.

He was starting to grow careless with how he saved Gyro, too. He had already had a couple close calls where he was almost caught, most notably during the Shadow War when he pulled Gyro out of the water before the currents could sweep him away. Gyro had immediately started to question how he’d gotten there so quickly, and Fenton had barely managed to stammer out an excuse before running off to meet up with his past self for the switch-off. No doubt the island was starting to get crowded as well.

Fenton knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn’t hide it anymore, and he got caught.

* * *

It was death number one-hundred. 

Whilst demonstrating to an increasingly unstable Scrooge that the security systems were functioning exactly as they should, Gyro had triggered one of the more deadly traps, leaving him nothing but a burnt crisp. Fenton barely had the time to get to Gyro and suggest he simply go over the security footage with Scrooge before he realized that may not have been the best idea.

It had been Scrooge who noticed. With how he was driving himself mad over those 87 cents, of course he’d been keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. On one of the camera feeds for the lab, he’d spotted Fenton making the trade-off with his past self, before he’d run off to keep Gyro from triggering the security system. The old duck spoke, perhaps a little too loudly, “Now what’s he up to, there?”

Gyro and Huey, who had been trying to convince his uncle to rest, looked at the screen Scrooge was pointing at. Gyro barely caught a glimpse of Fenton’s tailfeathers disappearing offscreen, so he rewound the footage to get a better look. Then he rewound it again. And again. And again. Watching the exchange between the two Fentons on loop with an unreadable expression.

Huey and Scrooge turned toward Fenton, and he took a nervous step back, a sheepish smile on his face. “Look-- I... I can explain! Gyro--”

“Save it.” Gyro’s tone was clipped, harsh. He wasn’t looking at Fenton.

Fenton grimaced, gripping onto his tie and twisting it in his hands. “Please, Gyro, hear me out--”

“I said save it! We will discuss this later, Cabrera.”

That really wasn’t good. Gyro hadn’t called him ‘Cabrera’ in months. If he had reverted back to last name basis, then he must be furious with him. Fenton gulped, staying frozen in place. Huey glanced awkwardly between Fenton and Gyro, before letting out a nervous laugh and making an excuse to leave. Even the feverish Scrooge had the soundness of mind to excuse himself to his own business. Which left the two scientists alone with each other.

Fenton remained quiet, staring at the back of Gyro’s head. The chicken still wouldn’t look at him, his eyes transfixed on the security screens. The room was silent for several seconds, the tension in the air so thick one could cut through it with a knife. Finally, Gyro spoke again.

“Go away, Cabrera.”

“Gyro?” Fenton’s voice wavered, unsure.

“Just go! Leave, already!” Gyro snapped, finally glancing back at Fenton with a sharp glare. Fenton flinched, hurt flashing across his face, but he accepted that Gyro didn’t want to talk right then. He just hoped the other wasn’t going to be mad for too long. He backed towards the door, and reluctantly left the room, leaving Gyro with the security feed playing on repeat.

* * *

They didn’t meet one on one until after Scrooge’s fake funeral, where Glomgold’s own temporal ruse had been exposed. It would almost be hilarious that two people were caught tampering with time on the same day if Fenton wasn’t one of them.

That evening, he stepped into the lab, fidgeting with his tie nervously. The lights were dim, leaving the lab to be mostly illuminated by the sunset over the water, which gave the room an almost greenish tint. Gyro was sitting at his desk, plugging Lil’ Bulb into its charging station for the night. He didn’t acknowledge Fenton’s presence. The duck took a few steps closer, before Gyro finally spoke up. 

“I watched back the security footage of the past few months. I know this wasn’t the first time you’ve done this.” His tone was careful and even, like he was making an effort to keep any emotion out of his voice.

Fenton’s brows creased, and he glanced down, fist tapping against his thigh. “I was afraid of that.” He murmured, then looked up at Gyro once more. “I only did it to save you, Gyro. I’m not time traveling just to fix petty mistakes!”

Gyro barked out a laugh, sounding harsh and doubtful. “Save me? Please, what would you ever need to save me from?”

“Honestly? From yourself.” Fenton responded, surprising himself with how bluntly he put it. It shocked Gyro to hear as well, as he turned to face Fenton with wide eyes. Without waiting for a response, Fenton continued, “Most of the times I’ve gone back and saved you, you died because of one of your inventions!”

“Now, look here!” Gyro pointed a finger at Fenton, retorting, “Just because my inventions tend to go haywire does not make them deadly! Name one that actually could have killed me!”

Fenton’s expression darkened, and his fists clenched at his sides. “Lil’ Bulb with scissors and a live wire. The self-organizing bookshelf crushing you under its weight. The combination shower and dryer activating both functions at once and electrocuting you. The so-called ultimate paper shredder deciding to shred you instead. Need I go on?”

Gyro’s eyes widened again, locking on Fenton in mounting horror. Not just from the ways he’d apparently died, but from how the other had so calmly listen them off, almost like he was reading a grocery list. Somehow, he’d died so many times that Fenton didn’t even sound as distraught as he would have expected from the duck. His mouth felt dry, and for once, Gyro was at a loss for words.

When he finally regained his bearings, Gyro asked only one question. “How many times, Fenton?”

“Exactly one-hundred.”

Gyro’s blood ran cold, and the room fell silent once more. The chicken ran his fingers through his hair, stepping back and collapsing in his desk chair. Fenton remained where he stood, his grim expression finally giving way to exhaustion. Gyro stared at him, finally starting to notice how the other had changed over the past several months. There were bags under his eyes, subtle, but still there. His already messy hair crest just seemed that much more unkempt. And his eyes... Fenton’s once bright, optimistic eyes had dulled into something Gyro recognized all too well.

He had the eyes of a jaded, tired, lonely man on the verge of giving up. The same eyes that Gyro saw in the mirror every morning. A pang of guilt shot through Gyro, his brows creasing. What had he done to Fenton? “Oh, Fenton... I...” He grimaced, trying to choose the right words. Scrooge had never given him cards for this kind of situation, which meant he had to figure out what to say on his own. But what could he say that wouldn’t sound like empty placation or harsh criticism?

“You don’t need to say anything, Gyro.” Fenton sighed. “I’ll return the Temporal Turnback Watch, and stop meddling with the fabric of space and time. I’m sure that’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it?”

“No, Fenton.” Gyro stood up, making his way across the room towards the duck. Fenton stepped back once, anxiety flaring up inside him. Gyro raised his hand, and Fenton flinched... only to feel a light pressure on his shoulder. He looked to see Gyro’s hand gently resting on his shoulder, and he looked up at the other in confusion.

Gyro’s expression was surprisingly soft, gazing at Fenton with a mixture of sympathy and... gratitude? “You’ve sacrificed yourself a hundred times for me. I... Even I can’t be mad at you for that. Was it a foolish, sentimental decision on your part? Yes. But... I’m alive because of you. So... Thank you, I suppose.”

Fenton stared at Gyro, his mouth hanging open in awe. Gyro had just  _ thanked _ him. He wasn’t mad at him. Relief swept through his body, and he threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around the chicken in a tight hug. Gyro was caught off guard, and stumbled for a moment, but quickly regained his balance. Ordinarily, he would have rolled his eyes and squirmed out of Fenton’s hold, but this time, he simply sighed and let Fenton hug him.

Then something came to mind. “Wait... Where are your paradox clones going, anyway? Surely we would have noticed a hundred extra Fentons running around!”

“Oh, right! About that... I’ve been sorta, kinda... sending them to an island that I found while taking the Gizmoduck suit on a test flight?”

“So, off the coast of Duckburg, there’s an island exclusively populated by Fentons?” Gyro quirked an eyebrow in bemusement.

“Yes?”

Gyro sighed, and took off his glasses, pinching the base of his beak. “Okay... Alright. Let’s make a deal, Fenton. I promise to be more careful with my inventions, but if I die again, then you tell me. No more secrets and hiding around. If you can do that, then I’ll see about making that island a bit more comfortable for... all those Fentons.”

Fenton practically beamed, a bit of that optimistic light finally returning to his eyes. “Can do, Dr. Gearloose!”

“Please... just call me Gyro.”

“Of course, Gyro!” Fenton smiled, finally releasing the hug. For the first time in months, things finally seemed to be looking up for him.

“Wha-- Lil’ Bulb! I thought I put you to bed! Get away from that vent!”

Well, mostly.


End file.
